Shrew Superhero AU
by Kaigoryu
Summary: Shane is an undercover superhero who always comes home covered in scrapes and bruises. His roommate Drew, who comes home with the same injuries, is actually a supervillian. They patch each other up after battles and lie about how they got hurt. They decide never to tell the other. (honestly tho superluv was so fuckin ridiculous that I had to do something. Prompt not mine.)
1. Chapter 1

" _Are you fucking kidding me."_

Shane shut his laptop carefully and rose to his feet from the small leather couch in his shared apartment.

Normally, he'd have panicked (or at the very least been surprised) at the sight of a six-foot-tall man walking into his apartment at three AM covered in cuts and scrapes. But this was Drew, his (apparently very clumsy?) roommate of two months, and those things were decidedly normal with him.

So every week, when Drew inevitably came home injured, Shane patched him up. And vice-versa.

Shane acquired as many injuries as Drew, but the difference between the two was that Shane didn't earn his cuts from clumsiness; Shane was an undercover superhero.

Shane grabbed the industrial-sized first aid kit from its spot in their bathroom cupboard, waving at the toilet to tell Drew to sit down. The younger man did, rolling his eyes as he went.

"It's not even that bad this time," He complained. "I could probably fix it myself, if I tried."

Now it was Shane's turn to roll his eyes. "Not that bad, my ass. You're bleeding through your shirt."

"Am I?" Drew asked, feigning cluelessness.

Instead of succumbing to Drew's ridiculous responses, Shane reigned the conversation back in.

"What happened this time? Freak tornado?"

"No _, ow_ ," Drew said, as Shane dabbed alcohol onto his cuts.

"Stay still," Shane commanded, continuing with his work.

"Okay, so this time, I was in Wal-Mart, right, and I was trying to get a bag of Doritos off the shelf," Drew explained animatedly, talking with his hands. "But I didn't want the regular Doritos, I wanted the Cool Ranch, baby. So I stood on my tip-toes, and reached- but I kind of fell onto the shelf with the bean dip on it that they always keep on the chip isle for some fucking reason and cut myself on all the cans. A lot."

Drew looked up at Shane to see if he bought it. Furrowed eyebrows said no. But Drew accepted all of Shane's bullshit stories, and this one was honestly way more believable than Shane's "tripped over a hobo in the Taco Bell parking lot" explanation from last week.

"No offense Drew, but I think you're lying," Shane decided, slapping an oversized Band-Aid onto Drew's arm a bit harder than necessary.

" _Drew's such a fucking liar_ ," Drew mocked his best friend in a high-pitched voice. "That's what you sound like."

Shane laughed, and flipped him off as he exited the small bathroom, flicking off the light because he knew it'd annoy Drew.

"Hey, mister, that was uncalled for!" Drew exclaimed. "That's it! I'm going on strike! I'm not leaving this bathroom until you turn the light back on!"

"Have fun sleeping in the bathtub!" Shane called from the kitchen, laughter in his voice. Drew joined him a few seconds later.

"I was kidding," He stated plainly, perching himself on the counter as Shane turned on the coffee maker.

"Obviously."

"You know, you're weirdly cool about all the injuries I get all the time," Drew said softly as he fiddled with the salt shaker.

Shane shrugged.

"You're cool with mine; it makes sense for me to be cool with yours, too," Shane said. Drew was silent after that, and Shane wondered if it was because of the mysterious way Drew accumulated his cuts.

They eventually made their way over to the living room, where Shane sat with his salad dinner and Drew huddled under a blanket in the armchair in the corner after an unconvincing claim about not being hungry today.

Shane watched him out of the corner of his eye while watching Netflix; Drew seemed intent on the screen in front of him, but his unhappy expression and vacant eyes told Shane that Drew was hiding something from him, and Shane desperately wanted to know what it was.

But of course, that wasn't his place. Shane wouldn't drag it out of him like he might with Jessie or Lisa or Joey or one of his other friends; Drew was the kind of person who would either tell him when he's ready or bottle it up forever.

Either way, Shane didn't care. Much. At least he could pretend not knowing someone's secret didn't burn him up inside, right?

 **A/N: Nice reviews fuel my creativity, so drop one my way and leave some suggestions for this story while you're at it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long! But I can't guarantee faster updates. I love this story personally, but I like writing things for bigger fandoms more. It's no fun writing if no one reads it, you feel?**

 **P.S. the Zapper is totally Garrett Watts. Can you believe I started writing this story before he was their friend? Wild**

Shane felt the wind blow the hair back off of his face, and smiled at how pleasant it felt.

He's squatting at the top of an office building, and can't help thinking about how stereotypically superhero-like it is. But he couldn't help it could he? After all, he was a _superhero_ ; they weren't exactly known for being low-key.

Suddenly, Shane heard a car alarm go off from somewhere behind him. And then another, and another. Car after car alarm began to sound, and Shane couldn't ignore the source any longer. Something of that magnitude had to be super… and super bad.

Shane took a running leap and jumped off the building, flying quickly over to the first car that'd gone off.

With a start, Shane caught a glimpse of something shiny and yellow in his peripherals; he shot a heat blast in its direction, but the feeble attempt missed.

"Woah, hold up!"

The man in yellow emerged from his spot behind a parked car, looking scandalized. "I didn't even _mean_ to set all these cars off!"

He looked so sincere that Shane believed him for a moment. He lowers his hands and takes a step towards the man.

"Really?"

"No, I totally did!"

The man in yellow gave a huge, cheshire grin before shooting a wicked lightning bolt and hitting Shane directly in the shoulder. Shane hissed in pain, clutching his wound and glaring daggers at the man, who apparently didn't know how to make use of a distraction and make a getaway.

"Don't you want to know who I am?" The man says giddily, still grinning obnoxiously. Shane was getting more and more tired of him by the minute.

"Not really," Shane replied through gritted teeth.

"Of course you d- Aw, c'mon, just ask my name!" There's a pause before the man seemed to realize Shane would never ask his name. "Okay, so I'll just tell you. I'm the Zapper!"

Shane gave the Zapper a withering look. "That name's not even _cool_ ," he said, finally, over the pain of his wound.

Shane shot blast after blast at the Zapper, who finally seemed to get the message that Shane's not messing around.

The Zapper pushed his circular glasses further up on his nose before high-tailing it over to the edge of a building, and with a final lightning bolt, he shot into the sky away from Shane.

" _Damn it_ ," Shane swore passionately, and stomped the ground in frustration. Would nothing work out for him this week?

Now that the adrenaline was fading, the burn on his arm was starting to hurt again. Wincing, Shane stumbled into an alley where he stashed his civilian clothes.

He put them on over his pink Superlove costume (the name Shane's ex-girlfriend, Lisa, had picked. Shane had laughingly agreed, but she'd been serious, and shown up with the suit the next day.)

Shane quietly entered the apartment; luckily, it was still early and Drew wasn't up yet. Shane usually liked for Drew to help patch him up, but there was no way he could casually explain a wound like this.

 _Oh this?_ Shane thinks sarcastically. _Yeah, there was a sale at Target. The deals were shocking!_

With a snort, Shane shut himself in the bathroom and got to work. He hastily applied numbing spray first before carefully cleaning the wound.

He might heal faster than the average person, but this would still smart for a couple days. Shane silently cursed the Zipper's- or whoever he was's- name.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and Shane jumped, dropping a bottle of antiseptic.

"Shit!" he whispered at the loud noise as Drew called his name from the hall.

"Shane, are you okay?"

"Um… yeah," Shane replied in a pleasant tone, which automatically made Drew think something's up.

"Shane, I'm gonna come in," Drew said, but he lingered in case Shane had any objections. When he heard none, he goes on in.

It's a strange sight, seeing your best friend with a half-covered grapefruit-sized burn on his shoulder surrounded by normal-sized bandaid wrappers and a dinky little can of antiseptic.

If Drew weren't a super villain used to things like this, he might have fainted.

"Wow, that's… really big," Drew said as he stepped closer. Shane just stared at him, unsure of what to say. They'd never seen each other with a serious injury before.

Suddenly, Drew made direct eye contact with Shane, and he's so close that Shane's heart skipped a beat.

"I don't think bandaids are gonna work," is all Drew says before he turns to fish some gauze and tape out of the first-aid bag. But the damage had been done. Shane was falling for him, hard. And he didn't even mind.

Drew fixed him up, one knee leaning on Shane's thigh as he sat on the edge of the tub. Shane tries- and fails- not to enjoy it too much.

"What a pair we are, huh?" Shane asks to distract himself, with a feeble laugh at the end.

With a start, Drew looked up into Shane's eyes, the word "pair" repeating itself in his head over and over again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Drew asked, waking himself up and returning to his work. "You don't normally say things like that."

"What, don't you think it's strange," Shane asked nonchalantly. The urge to know Drew's secret was emerging again. "That we both get mysterious wounds all the time?"

"Coincidence," Drew stated, wrapping up Shane's wound and getting off his lap. Shane grabbed his wrist before he can walk away, and Drew hoped Shane couldn't hear his heart pounding away in his chest.

"What's going on?" Shane asked the question so earnestly that Drew opened his mouth to confess before he even realizes what he's doing- but he promptly closed it before he spoke. It's the number one rule of villainy: No admitting to your crimes!

"It's nothing," Drew says, breaking away, and heads to his room to get settled under his covers. If this didn't call for a nap, he didn't know what did.

14 hours later, Drew woke up, feeling groggy and somehow worse than when he'd gone to sleep. What time was it? No, scratch that, what _day_ was it?

Drew didn't know, and at the moment he was too hungry to figure it out. He headed to the kitchen, one eye open for Shane. He loved his best friend, but… well, he loved his best friend.

Drew had his cup of root beer and two microwave burritos in his hand and was about to retreat back to his room when a sleepy-looking Shane stopped him at the door.

"Drew?" Shane asked blearily. "Since when do you wake up before two?"

"I crashed early last night," Drew replied, steering around Shane to get down the hall. "Or I guess it was more of an early afternoon…"

"You're incredible," Shane says, and they can't see each other anymore but there's a part of Drew that doesn't want to fight the feeling he gets from hearing Shane say those words.

Drew was robbing a museum.

He didn't need money; no, he'd taken care of that the first time he stole and sold a Picasso. No, Drew just had a lot going on in his head, and nothing steals your focus like, well, stealing things. Drew had learned that lesson a long time ago.

Getting in had been simple enough. It'd been as simple as using his mind control powers to make everyone turn a blind eye. A guy in a purple hoodie and a mask isn't so suspicious when you never lay eyes on him.

Drew had waltzed to the back room, where they prep things to be put on display. All around, ancient bones and dusty books were being repaired and glassed; but Drew could see something in the back that he wanted more than any bone or book.

There, in the hand of the museum curator himself, was a glittering purple ring, with a gorgeous amethyst attached to the top.

"I'll just take that," Drew said, holding out a hand, and it's almost creepy how complacently the curator drops it into his hand. Sometimes Drew's powers freaked _him_ out.

Drew's back in the main lobby when the hairs on his arms raise up. Suddenly, a man in a pink and black superhero costume busts through the door, a determined look on his handsome face.

 _Damn, sometimes I really hate being bi,_ Drew thinks through gritted teeth. _How did Pinky find me anyways?_

"Stand down!" Superlove says, and Drew just rolls his eyes. How could he take a superhero seriously with a name like _Superlove?_

"Yeah, sure, Hippie-McGee," Drew replied snidely. "If I don't what're you gonna do about it, go cry to your tree friends?"

Drew can't see past his mask, but he gets the impression that Superlove's face is dark. Drew can see that he's gearing up for an attack, and sure enough a blast is shot his way only seconds later.

Drew dodges, simultaneously mind-controlling a couple civilians into piling on Shane like in a football game.

Drew took off, ripping his mask off and sprinting outside to the cab he'd bribed into to waiting for him earlier. "Drive!" he tells him, and the driver wastes no time.

Through the back window Drew can see Superlove looking around wildly, trying to find him.

 _Look the other way,_ Drew thinks, and he obeys, because no one can resist what Drew thinks.

Drew released his mind, and sees Superlove fly up, apparently trying to get a better view.

 _Well, good luck finding me,_ Drew thinks. _A cab's not exactly a rare sight in LA._

Drew climbs in the window in the darkness, breathing a sigh of relief when he doesn't see Shane. He's really gotta stop climbing in before checking...

Drew heard the key slide into the lock; he sees the door slowly creaked open, and a defeated-looking Shane walk in.

"What's wrong?" Drew asks immediately, not even attaching a "Daddy" to the end of it like he normally might. He walked over to the couch and sat down.

"Tough day," Shane replied, with a sigh. "Nothing seemed to go my way."

Shane's heart skipped a beat as he watched Drew reach over and pat the couch next to him, signaling Shane to come over. Shane followed, obediently, and sank into the couch next to Drew.

As Shane rested his head on Drew's shoulder and felt his eyelids grow heavy, he says, "You're too good, Drew."

Drew says nothing in return, the stolen ring in his pocket feeling impossibly heavy.


End file.
